Guises

I fucked the young priest in what must be the sacristy, the room off the sanctuary where the communion was prepared. I leaned her over the sink there, pulling her cassock up to her waist in back and laughing when I saw she was wearing black lace panties underneath. I knelt behind her, and she gasped and writhed against the counter as I ate out her ass and cunt and opened her cunt folds with my fingers. I ran my hands up her torso to find she was wearing a bra as well. Standing up behind her, saddling up, and mounting her, I gained purchase of my erection deep in her cunt, ran my hands up to cup and squeeze her tits, and began the dance of the fuck.

Panting and moaning, she went with me, swaying with the rhythm of the thrusts—a young Catholic priest now transformed to the guise of a willing young woman.

Halfway through the fuck, I pulled my cock out of her cunt, exchanging it for fingers working her there, and penetrated her ass channel—a male-to-female trans providing twice the holes to master. And master them I did.

She seemed to take as much pleasure from me fucking her in the ass as had done in the cunt.

* * * *

I found the guises that guests came in to Carlos Vincetti's Halloween costume party amusing and, in some cases, telling. He had established an open account at a costume store in Portofino for guests to outfit themselves at his expense. I had put considerable thought into my costume. I wanted it to be both meaningful and sexy. I had been directed to service the headmaster of the exclusive girls' school during the party and I had my own eye on a couple of the other guests, so I wanted to play the part. I reached back to the first movie role of Evan Edings, a biker's movie called Hellbent, in which Evan played a young man from the streets pulled into a bikers' gang by environment and being involved in the kidnapping of a young woman who he freed at his own cost in the movie. This was the movie that established the Evan Eding's name as a heartthrob with young women fan clubs. I wore tight black leather trousers, with a drop crotch, biker boots, a leather hat and arm bands, and a black leather harness on a bare chest. For giggles I wore pink satin panties underneath it all.

Other attendees dressed with as much forethought and personal revelation, taking on guises that were telling but that were very much distinguished from their natural face to the world. Carlo Vincetti came as Gloria Swanson, the silent screen star, in her role as Nora Desmond, the faded silent screen star. He was quite convincing in this drag role. Nico, his supposed son, came tellingly as a schoolboy, and he kept flitting around Vincetti and acting as anything but a son or a schoolboy.

The headmaster came as a vampire, which exhibited the comment that Vincetti had made about him—that he was a voraciously eater of young men. The monsignor, Luigi, came as a medieval pope and probably had no idea how closely that fit the role Vincetti was setting for him. I assumed that Vincetti had suggested that costume to him. The young priest, Valentine, came as a 1920s flapper. He, of course, was quite convincing in the role of a liberated chorus girl from that era.

The young priest turned me on. At the first chance I had during the party, I coaxed Valentine downstairs to the covered loggia under that of the villa's main level, next to the pool terrace, and fucked him doggy style against one of the porch columns, Valentine clinging to the column, and me mounted on his jutting-back hips, cupping and squeezing his perfect little firm breasts and thrusting, first, up into his surgically supplied cunt, and then, finishing, in his ass channel. He offered no resistance whatsoever, asking me why I had waited so long to cover him.

I barely made it back to the party before the headmaster zeroed in on me, and, with a sweep of his black cape, guided me off to my bedroom and my bed, where I found that the crab position, him on his back and me stretched on his body, staring at the ceiling, legs bent and feet flat on the mattress outside of his legs, my palms pressing down outside of his arms, and lifting and lowering myself on his buried cock was as much his preference with me as it had been with Valentine on his yacht.

He finished me—and himself as well—in the missionary position, his strong hands holding my arms captive above my head with a grip on my wrists, his cape billowing above us, the rustle of the material exhibiting the rising and falling movement of his body on mine under the cape, and my head at an angle, with him biting me on the neck, eating me up. For an old fat man, he had a good, long erection, and marvelous thrust power.

I came back to the party to find Carlo at the door, welcoming three men, one dressed like Columbo from the American television shows, and the other two as Italian policeman. Carlo was looking perplexed, as he didn't know the men and couldn't place having invited them to the party.

"Is there a Kurt Edings here?" the man dressed like Columbo asked, which only perplexed Carlo more.

"I'm sorry. Did you mean Evan Edings?" Carlo asked, I which point I stepped forward.

"Yes, I'm Kurt Edings," I admitted. "What is the problem?"

"The officials at the Berlin Independent Film Festival have registered a charge of fraud against you," the detective said. "They say you attended their festival in the guise of an American movie star, Evan Edings, and they are charging you with misrepresenting yourself in a contract under which Edings was paid to appear at the festival."

"The fans didn't seem to notice and won't notice unless the festival sponsors make it public," I said. "And isn't their beef with my cousin, Evan, rather than me? He signed the contract. I didn't. Good luck in finding anyone there who can say I presented myself as Evan. They all just assumed I was. We could be twins."

The detective looked confused and Carlo filled the void with a question. "What is this all about Evan?"

"I'm not Evan," I said. "I haven't told you I'm Evan either. You assumed just like everyone else. Evan was having fun skiing in Switzerland when the festival came up. I'm his cousin. We're near doubles. He asked me to go to the festival in his guise. I thought it would be kicky to do so. The movies are so fake anyway, just a bunch of people pretending to be someone and something other than what they are." I was an actor too—just more of a stage actor to Evan's movie actor and not as successful yet as Evan was. We'd both gotten our start in gay male porn, though.

No one said anything, so I sighed and said, "I guess I'd better go with these men until Evan steps up to setting everything right with the Berlin festival." Turning to Carlo, I said, "I guess this ends the chance of me being in your movie. I'm not Evan."

Carlo smiled. "You had me fooled and you passed all of the auditions. Accept half the pay I was offering to get Evan Edings, and you can still have the part. We'll make you a star."

"Can I have half of that up front to satisfy the people in Berlin until Evan can clean this up?" I asked.

Carlo laughed. You continue letting whoever I point you to fuck you and it's a deal. He turned to the detective, who had, along with his two policemen, been giving me a very interested look over. "How about it, if we let you three gangbang our handsome young leather rent-boy here, will you hold off on getting him sent back to Berlin until his cousin can straighten this out."

Needless to say, I didn't get sent back to Berlin. So many Italians are happy to swing both ways.